We were in Buffalo, NY, in 1967-68, our first experience with the USA. We noticed immediately the tension between black and white people. One incident made a lasting impression on me. I was standing at a service station waiting for our car to get an oil change. We were five-six white people standing there, the front of the place open to the street, and were idly talking. There was a sudden tension, and all talk stopped; an old black man was walking past the place. I saw his eyes flash our way, and then he was past, and talk resumed.

He knew he was being looked at with dislike, just for being black. It struck me that he and practically all black people in the USA, had this their whole life, hateful looks from whites. What a load on your spirit!

On a lighter side, we had been going to various restaurants for a while but missed Chinese food. So I looked up Chinese restaurants in Buffalo and found one. We drove there one evening. It turned out to be in the black part of the city, and we walked into a place where were the only whites, to the embarrassment of the staff and the customers. There were comments like "Down the back for you" to each other, but mainly a friendly atmosphere. The food was OK, nothing special (no Chinese in the kitchen that I could see but there may have been one). We finished our dinner and drove home

Next day I mentioned this to some colleagues at the Uni - white USAmericans - and they were aghast. "What?? You had dinner in the black part of the town? You are lucky to be alive!" and so on. They really believed that.

About 1969 or so, now at Lexington, Kentucky, we drove to Cincinnatti to hear Yehudi Menuhin giving a concert. It was great, as expected. The second night we thought we'd find a jazz place, and did find one. We asked the motel manager how to get there. He too was aghast - "That's where the ******s live!" (I don't want to write it out, the N-word, amazing to hear someone actually using it). We went anyway, and the bar had a mixed clientele, a friendly black waitress and a great jazz band was playing. There was an older white bloke sitting away from the stage and they called out to him, "You gonna play?" He got out his flute and joined them, great stuff. I like to think that was Herbie Mann, but probably not. Again, a friendly atmosphere, no tensions. Why can't it be like that everywhere?

Well, it wasn't everywhere. In 1984 I was in New Orleans at a big corrosion symposium, and at night, having found out that there was a Soul singer in town somewhere that I was interested in hearing. So I set off on foot, and soon found myself among shabby buildings for all black people - I was the only white around. At one point three young fellows saw me and started shouting abuse at me. I was clearly not welcome there. I got discouraged and turned around.

On the other hand, the same evening I then went to a bar and there was a black male singer singing a beautiful song. There was a white couple near me, and at one point the young woman went out and came back with a long stemmed rose and gave it to the singer. Nice!